The Journal
by Epic Emma 2017
Summary: So this is a story that's about a girl, who finds a journal, and there's something very special about it. So let me know what you think. Since I want this to be with Ten, it takes place in 2012, but in the Doctor's timeline, it's between Martha and Donna.
1. Five years old

I hurry along on my little legs to catch up with Mommy. We're on my way to my dance class, and I don't want to be late! "Alonzee, Minney!" Mommy calls to me. I'm hurrying along to catch up with her, when something catches my eye. A pretty blue journal with a purple flower design on it is laying on the ground. It's almost as if some force is drawing me to the journal, because I feel compelled to pick it up. "Come on, Minney, you're going to be late!" my mommy calls. I tear my eyes away from the journal, and hurry after her. We rush into Miss Trilla's Dance Academy, and in the bathroom, Mommy helps me get my tutu on. I hurry into the classroom, and see that I'm right on time; Miss Trilla is just beginning to take attendance. When she calls out "Minerva Cicero," I respond quickly with an excited "Present!" I'm really excited for dance class today, since we are very close to the recital. I dance my little heart out for an hour, then dance class is done. Dancing had helped taken my mind off of the journal I saw, but now I was thinking about it again. I can't explain why I felt so drawn to it. If I wanted a journal, I only needed to ask Mommy, and she'd be happy to buy me one, and read whatever thoughts I put down in it. After changing back into my clothes, and putting my tutu in the backpack I carry everywhere, Mommy takes me out to the car, but I walk slowly, so that she won't notice me stopping to pick something up. Sure enough, still laying in the parking lot, is that journal. I look around to make sure no one is looking, and pick it up, then slide it into my backpack. I then hurry up, and get in the car with Mommy. From there, we drive to Mr. Brady's house. Mr. Brady is my tutor. Even though I'm just 5, apparently I'm some prodigy, so Mr. Brady teaches me, so that I'll be really smart. First, he helps me study Latin for a while, then we work on multiplication. "Ok, I think that's about enough for today," he says after a while. After that, Mommy drives me back home. "I'm gonna make dinner, you can go up to your room and read or watch TV," she says. I run up to my room, sit at my desk, and pull the notebook out of my bag. I look at the cover more carefully, and see one thing that shocks me very much. On the front cover, in neat handwriting, the name Minerva Cicero is written. For a second, I just stare at it in shock. After I've recovered, I grab the journal, climb onto a chair, reach up to a tall cupboard that only contains stuff that hasn't been touched since before I was born, and place it in the back. I clearly shouldn't mess with this journal, as there is something very creepy about it. I close the cupboard, hop off the chair, slide it back to where it was, and pull out the book I'm reading. I never talk about the journal or touch it for years, but I never stop thinking about it.


	2. Fifteen years old

I sit talking to Atty, arguing about whether the Greeks or Romans are better. I've always loved Rome, but she says that the Romans stole everything from the Greeks. It's actually kinda funny, she's Atty, short for Athena, and I'm Minnie, short for Minerva. They're Greek and Roman equivalents of eachother. Atty glances at her watch. "I'm sorry, I have to go now. I'll talk to you tomorrow!" she says. After she leaves, I pull out a book containing several of my favorite Latin poems, and sit on my bed to read through it for the hundredth time. I'm trying to concentrate, but my eyes keep drifting towards the cupboard where the journal is. After thinking about it very much, I decide that I might as well take a look at it. It's obviously important, and I'll never be able to stop thinking about it until I look. Finally, I walk over to the cupboard, stand up on my tiptoes, open it, reach far back, and grab the journal. I sit back down on my bed, and examine the journal. Besides a bit of dust that has settled on it, the journal is identical to how I found it 10 years ago. For a moment, I stare at my name on it. Minerva Cicero. After staring at it for a few minutes, I open the journal for the first time. I'm so shocked by what I see, that I shut it again, turn around, and stare at the wall. There is writing in the journal that I didn't examine more, because it shocked me so much. The handwriting in it was identical to my own. Exact and every detail, down to the way I dot my i's with a horizontal line. This surprises me enough that I throw the journal across the room, sure that something is wrong with that. Once again, curiosity wins over, and I pick up the journal. I open it back up, and examine it a bit more. There is writing on the lines, just like their should be, but there's also writing added in the margins and between lines, as if someone decided to add more after already filling the page. There is writing in clearly whatever writing implement was easiest to access. Some of the writing was obviously written under strange circumstances, parts of it as bad as if upside down on a rollercoaster. While flipping through the pages, I notice some sketches in the margins. On one page, there is a strange sign that appears to be drawn with a berry, squished and rubbed on the page. After flipping through all the pages, I go back to the first page, and begin to read it. It says:

"There is a man called the Doctor. He has a blue box, identical to the Police Boxes I learned about from Mr. Brady. Inside the Police Box, it is much larger than the outside. He calls it the TARDIS, which stands for Time And Relative Dimenstion In Space."

There is too much to take in, even in just this small little bit. In this journal, Mr. Brady is mentioned. That's just strange. I put the journal away, but not for 10 years this time. For the next few years, I study it for a little while almost every day.


End file.
